


Unlikely Lovers

by Elril_Silverstar



Category: justin trudeau - Fandom
Genre: Drabble Collection, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 13:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elril_Silverstar/pseuds/Elril_Silverstar
Summary: Justin falls for a security officer.





	Unlikely Lovers

**Month by Month**

 

It was June and the air was warm, heavy, and humid. They sat outside on the hotel balcony sipping scotch, ice clinking gently in their glasses. They had fallen into a routine, not every night, but almost one of them would go to the others’ room bringing scotch, or wine, or on one occasion some truly terrible whisky Patrick had picked out while they were in Calgary. Not that it mattered, they never drank very much. It wasn’t really about the liquor. It was, for Justin at least about an excuse to talk to Patrick. Patrick also wanted an excuse.

It was July and fireworks were exploding overhead. Patrick was leaning on the balcony railing, talking. Justin had tuned out by accident; he tried to concentrate on the words. French. His attention slipped again, Patrick was wearing a t-shirt, the type with three or four buttons at the neck. They were unbuttoned showing a sliver of skin. He had a freckle on the side of his neck. The usual pajama pants replaced with shorts. It was summer, hot. They were black with a drawstring. The t-shirt was dark green. Patrick liked dark colors. Patrick looked good in green.

It was August, and they were running, the air was muggy. Patrick paced at his side, in step with him. It was a habit Justin knew, from Patrick’s military service. They ran in silence, the gentle thudding of their sneakers marking the time. Eventually they stopped, Justin stretched and Patrick stood a little ahead of him. Patrick lifted his shirt to wipe sweat from his face. Justin studied the bared flesh; Patrick had a smattering of freckles on his stomach and chest. He could see muscle sliding under his skin as Patrick wiped is his face. He looked up and found Patrick looking back at him, steadily. He looked away.

It was September and fall was in the air. Patrick was on holiday in Spain with J.P. He picked up his phone to text Patrick, they texted now. They had become friends. He tapped out a message, deleted it and typed out a second one. Deleted that one too, not sure why. Anxiety and…Something in his stomach, _I miss him._ That’s what it was, missing. Wishing for Patrick’s company. Sophie joined him at the table, coffee in hand and smiling. He smiled back and tried to banish the feeling in his stomach, bury it in eggs and toast.

It was October and leaves crunched under his feet. They were in Quebec, Patrick back at his side, the tan from Spain fading back into winter pale flesh. He loved the smell of fall. Inhaled and caught a whiff of Patrick's’ cologne. Earthy, spicy, and warm, hanging in the air. _Downwind from Patrick, must be._ Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in Patrick's’ neck and have the smell fill his sinuses. _…What? Brush it off, don’t think about it. I’m straight, I have a wife. Sophie. I love Sophie. Don’t think about it._

It was November and winter chill was starting to set in. Today was rainy, cold gray rain splashing against the windscreen as Patrick drove. There was music on, Patrick tapped the steering wheel in time to the music. Justin didn’t know the song, not really. “Stooped down and out, you got me beggin' for thread/to sew this hole up that you ripped in my head.” That was right…There was a hole ripped in his head and maybe even his heart. _Can’t think like that. I don’t like men. Not that way. Don’t think about it._

It was December and the holiday rush was on upon them. Food, family, dinner parties, Christmas parties, his birthday party, snow, cold, dark, family ski trip. Not seeing much of Patrick. Missing Patrick, and pretending not to. _Don’t think like that, he has a boyfriend. You have a wife._ Put it away, out of (mental) sight out of mind. Wanting to text Patrick, not texting Patrick, having an extra glass of wine and texting Patrick, getting a jovial response from Patrick. Did Patrick know how he felt? Could he sense it? Don’t think about it. Patrick. (Patrick knew.)

It was January and he was kissing Sophie at New Years’. She was shorter than him, smaller, even in heels. She did not have a freckle on the side of her neck. “….You got me beggin’ for thread/to sew up this hole that you ripped in my head.” Patrick had a freckle on the side of his neck, and a smattering of them on his stomach and chest. _I can’t be remembering that right now. Not now._ What was Patrick doing for New Years’? Was he kissing J.P.? Probably. Put those thoughts away. _Don’t think about it._

It was February and they were on the road again. Saskatchewan. Cold, and very snowy. They were sitting inside tonight; Patrick lounged on the couch opposite him, in striped pajama pants and wool socks. Patrick was telling a story, something about a family member that got a little too drunk at Christmas. French. Patrick was from Quebec, Justin liked his accent. A northern accent. Even when Patrick spoke English his R’s sounded a little French. It was cute. He liked the way Patrick laughed, the way the corners of his mouth curled up. It was cute. _Can’t think like that_

It was March and raining, the snow finally starting to give way. Just a little. He was addressing an audience, must focus. Turned to pick up his water bottle, saw Patrick look quickly away like he’d been caught staring. Maybe he had (been caught). _Does he know how conflicted I feel? I wonder. Does he know I want to kiss him? Maybe. Doesn’t matter though. I don’t like men like that. (or do I?) Maybe just one, maybe just this one Dangerous thoughts, don’t think about it. Does Patrick know? Would he care?_ Maybe.

It was April and Justin couldn’t stand it anymore. First he tried to stay away from Patrick, hoped it would help. It didn’t, only made it worse. And made Patrick think something was wrong between them. _Something is wrong, wrong with me anyways. Why can’t I get him out of my head? I want to (do I?). No. Not really, I want to kiss him and…And more, a lot more._ Patrick was leaning against the railing of the balcony, talking. French. Justin studied the lines of his body as he leaned. Careful, don’t stare. Don’t let him know. _Does he know already?_ Maybe.

It was May and he was running, running hard. Pushing himself, running fast. He was ahead although just behind he could here Patrick’s footfalls. Like an echo of his own. A habit, from Patrick’s army service, always in step. He stopped, and walked, mouth open and breathing hard. _Why do I feel like I’m running from something? Running from Patrick? No. From myself? From the way I feel? Yes._ Nothing to be done about it, maybe if he ran hard enough he wouldn’t notice the way Patrick was slightly flushed with exertion. Probably not, but maybe. Maybe.

It was June and Patrick wore a rainbow flag pin on his lapel opposite his usual Canadian flag. There was another flag under the rainbow one, it had three horizontal stripes, magenta, deep purple, and dark blue. It was a Pride flag, but exactly what it stood for was slipping his mind at the moment. They were alone for the moment; Justin realized Patrick was looking back at him intently. Almost as if he had heard all the words Justin hadn’t spoken. Justin looked away, had Patrick noticed him noticing? _Maybe, hopefully. Hopefully? Yes. No more maybes._

It was July and they were in Edmonton. Justin stood at the railing overlooking the city. Patrick sat behind him, quiet. He needed to tell Patrick, didn’t know how to start. Started. Stopped. He felt a hand on his shoulder gently turning him around, Patrick brushed his fingers lightly across Justin’s cheek. Asking. Wondering. He nuzzled into the touch, reached out, found a hip and pulled Patrick to him. Their lips met gently at first, cautiously. Heat building quickly between them. Patrick was layering kisses down his jaw, his neck. Justin groaned, cursed softly. English. Pulled Patrick tighter against himself.


End file.
